


The Thing About the Wings

by callay



Category: The Fades
Genre: First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There’s a thought skittering around in his head that maybe they should talk about this. It keeps getting burnt away by the feeling of Mac touching him, but it keeps coming back, until finally he manages, “Hey, is this – okay?”</em>
</p><p><em>There’s a fraction of a pause before Mac says, “Mate, you have </em>wings<em>.” Like that explains everything.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing About the Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I love this show, so here's my dubious tribute to it. Would that I could have included even more about Paul's adorable booty.
> 
> Takes place sometime during episode 3, shortly after the appearance of the wings. Don't take it too seriously.

They’re both in Mac’s room, sitting on the bed, when Paul tells him about the wings.

He should have expected that Mac’s first response would be “Can I see them?”

“Um, no, that’s not really – “

“What are they like? Are they big floofy white wings? That’s what I’d expect, you being an Angelic and all, but I could be wrong. Let me see, mate, come on.”

“The thing about the wings is, they only came out when I, uh – “ Paul makes a gesture.

Mac narrows his eyes. “When you what? What is that?”

“I was thinking about Jay, and, you know…”

Mac watches his hand for a moment before he gets it. “You were _wanking_? And you got wings? Are you kidding me?”

“No,” says Paul grumpily.

Mac snorts in disbelief. “ _Why_?”

“Why is any of this happening, Mac, I don’t know,” says Paul, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them.

“Did you ask Neil?”

Paul looks at him. “Yeah? What should I say? ‘Hey, Neil, I grow wings when I ejaculate, is that normal?’”

Mac grins at that. “I don’t know, might be worth a shot.”

Paul just shakes his head, and Mac considers him for a moment. Finally he says, firmly, “Show me.”

“You want to see me masturbating?”

“I want to see the _wings_ , stupid.”

“But –“

“I won’t look,” says Mac, talking quickly like he always does when he has a plan. “I’ll pull up my new favorite video, you can spank the monkey, and then we’ll examine the wings.”

Paul hesitates, looking down at the bed. There aren’t many lines left between him and Mac, but this feels like one of them. The thought of crossing it sends a wash of heat to his face.

“It’s the only way, Paul,” insists Mac.

“Fine,” says Paul quietly. Even if Mac won’t actually be able to explain anything about the wings, he likes it when Mac knows everything he knows. That’s the way they normally operate.

“Excellent.” Mac jumps up and goes to the computer. “You’re going to love this one, she does this thing where – well, I won’t spoil it.”

Mac quickly pulls up the video and waves Paul into the computer chair.

Paul pauses to take off his shirt.

“Woah,” says Mac. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t wear a shirt, what’s supposed to happen when the wings come out?”

“Hm, okay, yeah,” says Mac. “Okay, go for it. Do whatever makes you comfortable. I’ll face the wall, yeah?”

He sits down on the bed, facing the wall – Paul makes sure of that before he sits in the computer chair and pulls down his pants and boxers. With a last glance at Mac, he kicks them off completely. Easier that way.

Now totally naked and very, very tense, Paul clicks play on the video.

The breathy voice of the actress echoes loudly through the room. Paul jumps. “Don’t you have headphones?” he asks Mac.

“My parents aren’t here, just leave it,” Mac tells him, so Paul does.

Paul rarely watches porn himself. It always seems a bit awkward. But he is a teenage boy, he’s not exactly unsusceptible to the bouncing, shining body parts on screen. He jerks himself quickly, biting his lip and concentrating on the primal appeal of the video.

Soon he’s hard, heart racing, hand moving fast and sure. This must be the part Mac was talking about – it is rather creative, and judging by the moans of the woman in the video, she’s enjoying it too – 

Paul realizes all of a sudden that he can hear Mac breathing hard behind him. When he concentrates he can even hear the rhythmic sound of skin on skin coming from the bed –

Paul’s hand stutters and he feels himself flush. Instantly he remembers when he overheard Mac on the school trip to Calais. Lying there frozen, too embarrassed to reveal he was awake, heart pounding to the rhythm of Mac’s movements, hardening in his pajama pants at the little noises Mac is making.

He usually tries not to remember that. He tries not to think about that, especially with his hand on his cock and his head spinning with thoughts of sex.

He locks onto the bouncing breasts on screen. Focuses on that, not his best friend touching himself a few feet away.

Luckily he’s a little distracted by a weird feeling in his back, a build-up of tension around his shoulder blades. His skin feels tight and very hot, like a recent sunburn. It’s not pleasant, but it seems to promise pleasant things, brings to mind the indescribable sensation of the wings coming out earlier – half lost to memory by the pure shock of the moment.

He can’t wait to feel it again now that he knows it’s coming. Anticipation makes his breath come harder, his hand move faster, makes his hips roll up to meet his hand.

Need rolls over him in waves, not from the video anymore but in a self-feeding cycle: body tensing and stiffening in rhythm with his hand, hand working frantically in rhythm with his body. Orgasm’s building in him, throbbing in his cock and buzzing in his veins and tugging at the tightness in his shoulder blades.

He bites his lip, squeezes his eyes closed, and focuses on the feeling, building and building, until finally with a few frantic jerks he comes. He can feel the pulse in his balls and cock, but all his attention is on the sudden explosion of heat at his back.

It’s on the edge of pain, but it’s decidedly on the side of pleasure, the sensation of heat and expansion and freedom as the wings unfold from his back, snapping out straight in the air. He’s expecting it this time but it’s still a shock, makes him jerk and gasp aloud.

“Holy shit,” says Mac from behind him.

“Thought you weren’t going to look,” gasps Paul. Now that the wings are out, he can feel them, like part of his body, can feel the air pressing against the feathers. It’s an extremely strange sensation.

“Sorry,” says Mac not sounding sorry at all.

Paul hears Mac getting up and walking closer, and he sits up, fumbling for a tissue. “Go away, I’m naked!”

Mac ignores him. “Oh my god, Paul, you have _wings_.”

Paul’s boxers are caught under the wheel of the desk chair and he can’t pull them free before Mac’s right there behind him.

Paul jumps to his feet, turning to face the desk in a desperate bid to preserve some of his modesty.

“Hold still, I want to look at them,” says Mac, pushing aside the chair to step up behind Paul.

Paul can feel Mac’s eyes on him, examining him, and it makes his skin crawl – makes his _feathers_ crawl, a little shiver that runs through his wings from the base to the tip.

It’s really weird.

“This is really weird,” says Mac, sounding awed. “So can you fly?”

“I don’t know,” says Paul. “I can’t really move them –“ He tries, tensing his back and shoulders, and he manages to get his wings to twitch, but that’s it.

“Maybe you need practice.”

“Okay, I’ll just lock myself in my room watching porn all day, shall I?”

“Not at all a bad way to spend the day!” says Mac.

“Maybe for you, you p –“ starts Paul, and then his voice cuts off into a gasp, because Mac is touching him.

It’s not much, just a brief brush against one wing, but it feels like Mac’s hand sets off a shower of sparks in his wing, hot and electrifying. Paul is shocked by the intensity of it. 

“Wow, that’s soft,” says Mac.

And he does it again, both hands, sliding down the middle of each wing.

Paul can’t breathe at the feeling, like Mac’s hands are burning streaks of fire down his wings, but in a good way. A very good way. Pleasure is radiating hot from Mac’s touch throughout his wings and his whole body. He can feel it in his cock even, a flush of heat like he’s getting hard again. It doesn’t make any sense, thinks Paul desperately – but it’s undeniable. 

Mac’s not stopping. He strokes down again, digging his fingers between Paul’s feathers slightly, and Paul has to squeeze his eyes shut. He’s aware of each individual feather, and each of Mac’s fingers, and the sparks wherever they touch. 

It’s overwhelming. Paul’s head is spinning, and he thinks he should say or do something, but all he can do is bite his tongue and shiver at the gentle trace of Mac’s fingers.

Mac pauses. “Hey, are you… okay?” he asks.

Paul can’t say anything. He’s frozen, torn between the part of him that’s desperately embarrassed and hoping he can hide the effect this is having on him – and the part of him that wants to beg Mac to keep going with everything he has.

“Paul? Does it hurt? You should have said, mate.”

Paul shakes his head. He swallows past his heart pounding in his throat, and manages to croak, “Feels good.”

“Really?” says Mac, sounding bright and curious. He reaches between the wings, where a layer of small feathers covers their connection to Paul’s back, and rubs his knuckles down it like you might a cat’s head. “How’s that?”

Paul trembles so hard at his touch that his knees threaten to give out, and he plants his hands on the desk to keep from collapsing.

“Good?” asks Mac, and does it again, sending another spark lancing through Paul’s body. Paul lets out an embarrassingly needy noise, high and loud in the quiet room.

There’s a long moment of silence before Mac speaks again. “Uh, Paul? When you say it feels good, are you talking about… good in a sexy way?”

Paul nods slowly, because there’s no denying it. The sparks sizzling through him at Mac’s touch are gathering low in his belly, and the blood pumping hard through his veins is running right to his cock. He just came moments ago but now his whole body is thrilling with arousal.

“Oh,” breathes Mac, and Paul hangs his head. He wishes he could play this off, laugh about it, but his head’s still spinning and he can still feel every feather aching to be touched. If he opens his mouth he thinks he’ll beg Mac to continue, so he just stands there, breathing fast, blushing so hard he can feel it prickling on his neck.

And then he hears Mac take a step forward, and Mac strokes purposefully down his wings, fingers splayed to drag against the feathers.

It’s a new dizzying rush of heat, and Paul gasps, half with surprise and half with the electric feeling of it. His fingers dig into the desk as a shiver runs through him. If sex is even remotely like this, Paul can’t believe what he’s been missing.

Mac keeps going, working his way slowly over Paul’s wings like he wants to touch each individual feather. His touch is slow and deliberate, but Paul still feels like he can’t keep up, because each brush of Mac’s fingers sets off an overwhelming wave of sensation.

There’s a thought skittering around in his head that maybe they should talk about this. It keeps getting burnt away by the feeling of Mac touching him, but it keeps coming back, until finally he manages, “Hey, is this – okay?”

There’s a fraction of a pause before Mac says, “Mate, you have _wings_.” Like that explains everything.

Paul’s hardly complaining about what’s going on. The pleasure rolling through him is almost unbearable, a burning heat that utterly outclasses the feeling of touching himself. He’s very hard but he doesn’t even care, because all of his attention is focused on his wings and the tingling, sparking touch of Mac’s hands.

But something is tight and uneasy in his chest, like it’s unfair. Like even if Mac wants to do this, it’s not right for Paul to be getting off on it when Mac –

And then Paul loses his train of thought, because Mac curls his hands around the top edge of each wing and rubs outward, brushing through each of the little feathers there. There’s something perfectly rough about Mac’s grip, and the sparks shower down through the entirety of Paul’s wings, flow from there into the rest of his body, arcing hot through his stomach. Paul lets out a low groan at the feeling.

Abruptly Mac surges forward, lining his body up with Paul’s and pressing his face against the back of Paul’s neck. He’s warm. Paul can feel the shape of Mac’s face, his nose and cheek, a face he knows almost as well as his own.

Mac’s mouth moves against Paul’s neck as he says, “And also, you’re kind of sexy,” in a low, hoarse voice Paul isn’t used to.

The wave of warmth that rushes through Paul at that is different from the bright heat of need sparking from his wings. It’s deeper, softer, but manages to make him just as breathless.

“Mac –“ he tries, but his voice catches as Mac slides his hands up his back to trace the underside of the wings, the sensitive connection between wing and shoulder blade.

“I know it’s gay,” says Mac quickly, breath coming hot against Paul’s skin. “Super gay. But I really want you.”

“Yeah,” says Paul in agreement. Wishes he could say something more, but the only words in his head are _Mac, Mac, Mac_ , and he’s a little distracted by being more turned on than he has ever been in his life.

“Yeah,” says Mac. He slides his hands down Paul’s sides. It’s not as overwhelming as the sensation in his wings but it still feels good, warm pressure, especially when Mac curls his arms around Paul, over his stomach and chest. Mac’s closer now, pressing their bodies together, and suddenly Paul’s aware of Mac’s cock against him, a hard line of heat even through Mac’s clothes.

His heart stutters at the feeling, and maybe it should be awkward or embarrassing but the only thing he feels is _need_. He wants to be skin to skin, wants – doesn’t even know what he wants, just knows it involves Mac touching him.

Suddenly Mac ducks his head and presses his face between Paul’s wings, rubbing against the nest of soft feathers there. Paul groans aloud at the feeling of Mac’s skin, soft and warm, and Mac echoes him, hips jerking against Paul.

“Can I be naked?” says Mac in a husky voice. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

Paul can feel Mac’s words, a rush of hot air against his feathers, vibrating through his whole body. He just manages, “Yes.”

Mac doesn’t even undress, just shoves down his jeans and boxers and leans back in. And then Mac’s bare cock is pressing against Paul’s ass.

They gasp at the same time.

Paul is stunned by the feeling of it, the heat of it, the smooth hard shape of it pressing between his cheeks – but for a moment he can’t breathe just at the thought that this is actually happening. This is not the kind of thing you can play off as a joke or pretend never happened.

Good. Paul wants this, desperately. Desire’s thrumming in his veins, and his heart is thrilling in equal measure. He wants this, wants to share it with Mac, Mac who’s been by his side through everything.

Hands planted on the desk, Paul pushes back against Mac. Mac lets out a strangled gasp and jerks his hips forward, cock sliding against Paul’s ass. Paul shudders, wings twitching. Breathing hard against the back of Paul’s neck, Mac starts up a frantic grinding rhythm, wrapping an arm around Paul’s stomach and holding their bodies tight together.

Paul feels like his whole body’s vibrating along with his racing pulse. His cock’s throbbing almost painfully and his _wings_ – his wings are twitching and shivering with the need to be touched.

And finally Mac does, moving a hand up to bury his fingers in the feathers of one wing. Paul moans at the feeling of it, brighter and hotter than ever, a shock to his whole system.

“Good?” pants Mac, trailing his hand down Paul’s wing, fingers slipping between the feathers. He’s still rolling his hips against Paul, and the friction between their skin is hot and rough. Mac’s breath catches with each movement.

Paul likes it, the heat of Mac against the sensitive skin of his ass, and he likes Mac’s arm tight around him, and Mac’s mouth on the back of his neck, but it all pales in comparison to the sparks of pleasure bursting in his wing at Mac’s touch. His wings feel like they’re made of pure electricity, bolts lancing from them down to gather in a knot of tension in his belly.

He shifts to brace himself on one hand and brings the other to his mouth, bites down on a knuckle. It barely muffles the broken sounds Mac’s fingers are pulling out of him, but it focuses him just a little. He’s rocking with Mac’s movements, body trembling, wings twitching, but he’s not shaking apart completely.

Except Mac moves then, curling an arm up around Paul’s wing, forearm hot against the length of it as he grips the top edge and pulls Paul even closer. He squeezes, his fingers digging into the thick soft feathers, bracing himself as he rides hard against Paul’s ass.

Paul is going to come. It’s almost a surprise to realize it, because this is so utterly different from anything he’s done before. He hasn’t even touched his cock since this started. But the tight coil in his abdomen is unmistakable, inevitable. He couldn’t resist it even if he wanted to.

He closes his eyes and bites down on his hand and lets it roll over him, a bone-deep shudder from his legs to the tips of his wings. Mac’s hand is gripping and sliding in the feathers of his wing, perfectly rough, and everything about this situation is too much.

When he comes, it’s so much more than the pleasure pulsing through his cock. It comes from everywhere, everything he has, ecstasy washing over him in white-hot waves. His wings are stretched out straight and trembling, pleasure flowing from them like flames leaping from a bonfire. He cries out at the feeling.

Distantly he heads Mac swearing and saying his name, pressing up close against him, desperately pushing his cock into the curve of Paul’s ass. Mac groans when he comes, spilling hot and slick against Paul’s tailbone.

They’re still for a moment, panting. It takes a long time for Paul to open his eyes and even longer for him to find his voice.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says.

“Fuck,” agrees Mac.

Mac lets go, and Paul turns around, and they look at each other. Mac looks surprised and breathless and happy, and Paul feels the same.

Paul leans forward and kisses Mac. It’s a little awkward, noses bumping, mouths meeting a little askew. But Paul doesn’t mind. The kiss is still sweet, soft and tasting deliciously of potential.


End file.
